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    <user id="180260">
    <name><![CDATA[Meg]]></name>
    <location><![CDATA[New York, NY]]></location>        
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  <body>The concept of this book makes me mad. But I am working through it.</body>
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  <comments_count type="integer">1</comments_count>
  <created_at type="datetime">2009-05-31T18:05:06-07:00</created_at>
  <id type="integer">826757</id>
  <last_comment_at type="datetime">2009-05-31T23:52:50-07:00</last_comment_at>
  <page type="integer">37</page>
  <updated_at type="datetime">2009-05-31T18:05:06-07:00</updated_at>
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    <rating>2</rating>
  <votes>1</votes>
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  <read_at>Wed Jun 03 00:00:00 -0700 2009</read_at>
  <date_added>Thu Mar 12 06:31:06 -0700 2009</date_added>
  <date_updated>Thu Jun 04 07:59:44 -0700 2009</date_updated>
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    <body><![CDATA[My main problem here is that the book's structure serves only to obscure Hannah even further. The premise tricks you, at first, into thinking that finally our Late Outcast Heroine will have her voice, her control, her quasi non-revenge all by telling the story that no one wanted to hear when she was alive. Right? But this book is written from Clay’s POV, and it is Clay’s POV that ruins everything. He spends his whole night with the tapes moaning and groaning and putting his head in his hands and gasping for breath and feeling like he’s going to barf and then barfing and watching reflections and watching the sky and thinking NO HANNAH NO and thinking OH GOD I CAN’T LISTEN TO THIS and shivering and pulling his shirt closer and feeling a chill and thinking OH HANNAH OH and on and on. I did not find his reaction to the tapes to be interesting or illuminating. At best I found it to be intrusive. At worst I felt like someone was constantly at my shoulder, reminding me how IMPORTANT these tapes were, how UNUSUAL the premise was, how TERRIFYING the situation. <br/><br/>When surely Hannah’s story should have been enough on its own? Oh, but: it’s not, is it. Because Hannah’s story, honestly—it’s good, but it’s lacking something. Maybe it’s the structure, the intrusions, or maybe it’s the artificiality of her monologue, but to be honest sometimes Hannah seems to be ticking boxes off of a list of high school tragedies. Car accidents, house parties, hot tubs, giggly cheerleaders, best/worst list, true love surveys. Not to say that these things aren’t real; not to say that the things Hannah describes aren’t completely true and valid. The discussion of the guy who grabs girls by the wrists and then says chill out, he’s just joking, I mean, that is spot-on stuff, that is prime a#1 jock douchebaggery, that is EXACTLY the kind of thing that is perceived as little that builds up and eats girls whole. The idea of school not being a safe haven, teachers using the language they were taught but not the emotions they were born with…yes, yes, yes. Actually a lot of my frustration with this book is simply that I feel like Jay Asher is in the right neighborhood, ready to do battle with the dragons of Male Gaze…except for how the whole thing’s filtered through Clay, and these stupid tapes, and no matter how true to life Hannah’s experiences are, they’re not what this book ends up being about. So maybe I’m just mad because this isn’t the book I wanted it to be, and that’s on me. But by the time I got to tape 6 I was dying to just get it over with so I could go re-watch Season 1 of Veronica Mars, because that’s the stuff right there. <br/><br/>I see that a lot of people who have given low ratings to this book are mad because they feel Jay Asher has glorified suicide, or they feel that Hannah is whiny, or they feel that overall Hannah's &quot;snowball&quot; theory is maybe a little self-centered and Asher's construction of same is shortsighted. I don't know about that. But maybe if we were in Hannah’s story, really in Hannah’s story, we’d have more of a chance to believe in her. Give me more than reality. Give me characters.  <br/>]]></body>
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